


Last Woman Standing

by femmenerd



Series: Winsisters [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-20
Updated: 2007-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenerd/pseuds/femmenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John had two daughters" AU. No specific spoilers.</p><p><i>Dee felt like she might be going slightly insane—or you know, gay—but all she really knew was that she was gonna</i> show this girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Woman Standing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [victoria_p (musesfool)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/gifts).



> Originally posted on LJ [here.](http://femmenerd.livejournal.com/187697.html)
> 
> Written for [musesfool](http://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/musesfool) for the [Femslash '07 multifandom femslash ficathon.](http://femslash07.livejournal.com/) Musesfool is much classier than this fic though, which is basically PWP crack. Thanks to [callmesandy](http://callmesandy.livejournal.com/profile) for the taste-testing and encouragement.

Dee was pissed. For one thing, she wasn’t drunk enough–she always made it a point not to go over three drinks until after she’d fulfilled the quota for the night. Beer was this girl’s best friend–well, after her car, her favorite gun, and her runt sister (in no particular order, mind you). But Dee never let boozing interfere with _work_ , not hunting and certainly not hustling. 

What really had her panties in a bunch though was this fucking _girl_ , this little slut with shiny, (shit) brown hair and an irritatingly bouncy strut who wouldn't stop messing with Dee’s game–not her _game_ game, because you can’t distract Dee from the serious business that is the game of pool–but her ability to work the room in peace. 

After the third time the girl cut Dee off on her way to a table, Dee slammed her ass into a chair next to Sam, who was plunking away at the keyboard of her laptop as if this were the public library instead of a dive bar of the finest order. 

Dee took a swig off her beer and frowned, jabbing Sam in the shoulder with a finger. “Will you just _look_ at that girl?” she ordered. 

Sam looked–she glanced up, cocked her head to one side seriously, then directed her gaze back down to the computer screen. “Cute. Not my type though–too _obvious_ ” was Sam Winchester’s official assessment of the situation. 

Dee groaned. “That’s not what I meant, Sammy, but shit, that’s too bad, because she looks like she might swing over to your way of things, and I could definitely deal with you taking one for the team here.”

Sam grinned slyly at that, pushing a cowlicky section of dark hair out of her eyes for better smirking effect. “Sorry, Dee. You’re gonna have to handle this one on your own.” Then she sat back in her chair and kicked a boot out, apparently deciding that she was willing to stay awhile. “Besides, I don’t think I’m her type either,” Sam added, exposing her pearly whites just a smidgeon more. 

“What are you talking about, geek?” Dee was full-on scowling now. “That girl’s got lesbo written all over her–no offense.”

“None taken,” Sam replied smoothly, donning a critical, thinky expression before continuing. “And you’re right, but _I’m_ not the one she’s been making ‘fuck me’ eyes at all night.” 

“Eh?” Dee was sincerely confused at this point. But that wasn’t uncommon when her sister started going all cryptic on her–sometimes Dee thought that Sam considered fucking with her to be a recreational sport. 

“ _You_ , dumbass,” Sam elaborated. “That girl Faith–I heard her tell the bartender her name–she’s been all over you like white on rice ever since we got here. What’s up with you, anyway? I mean, I know you’re dense sometimes, but you’re not usually _this_ dense.”

“Huh” was the only thing Dee could think to say to that. Mostly because she’d already made the mistake of “breaking the seal” a beer and half back and she kind of had to piss. So she downed the rest of her beer in one throaty gulp and stood up to go and make her way to the little girl’s room. “Don’t give yourself an aneurysm with all that fun you’re having while I’m gone,” she yelled over her shoulder at Sam as she started weaving her way across the bar.

*****

Of course when Dee got all the way over to can, the door was locked from the inside and the only other person in the hallway was–you guessed it–this Faith chick. 

Dee stood up straight and thrust her tits out—battle stance. “I don’t like your face,” she said sweetly, staring the girl down. It tickled Dee pink that once she got right next to her it was obvious how _tiny_ Faith was–she could kick her little, bony butt if necessary. Not that that had been in question up until then, but still. 

“That’s too bad,” Faith sassed back, eyes twinkling with what looked like genuine amusement. She put one hand on her black-leather-encased hip and flipped that mop on top of her head. It made Dee want to punch her lights out. But suddenly Dee didn’t need to pee as badly as she had before–there was too much buzzing going on in her head for some reason. 

“Also, I don’t believe you.” 

Dee heard what Faith said, but her ears were ringing so it was taking her a second to come up with a response. 

She wasn’t quick enough. 

The next thing Dee knew her back was up against the wood paneling and Faith’s tongue was in her mouth. Faith tasted like cigarettes and Wild Turkey, two things that Dee didn’t mind in moderation but usually preferred to get first hand. All the same, she found herself kissing back, pushing into it like it was a competition. 

“I think you like me just fine,” Faith whispered into Dee’s mouth at the first break for air. Then she bit Dee’s bottom lip gently and grabbed a healthy handful of long, blonde hair, pulling just right. 

At exactly that moment, an aging barfly busted out of the women’s room and Dee recoiled like Faith was on _fire_. “ _Fuck_ ,” she hissed once the woman was out of earshot. 

“You wanna?” Faith already had two fingers hooked into Dee’s belt loops.

“Uh,” Dee said. 

Faith evidently took this as a yes, because the next thing she said was, “ _Awesome_. Let’s go,” as she backed Dee through the bathroom doorway, pushing hard with skinny arms that were a lot stronger than they looked.

They ricocheted off the sink and into another wall. Dee felt like she might be going slightly insane—or you know, _gay_ —but all she really knew was that she was gonna _show_ this girl, so when Faith knelt down on the tile floor and started going for Dee’s belt, she heard herself say, “Yeah, you like that?”

“I think I’m gonna,” Faith said, making short work of Dee's button-fly. 

Dee felt a rush of heat flood from her gut down into her pussy. When she looked down Faith was going at the wet crotch of her panties with a soft, stroking finger, then thrusting it aside and dipping in with two.

“See, you can’t lie to me,” Faith rumbled. She was doing this dextrous thumb-clit-fingers-in-cunt combo thing that no guy had ever pulled on Dee before. When she dipped her head and added _tongue_ it was all fucking over, and Dee was punching the wall with both fists as she came all over this annoying girl’s face.

Pants still around her ankles, Dee was trapped and immobilized when Faith stood back up and started with the kissing again. “Am I supposed to like...return the favor?” she said, feeling kind of retarded, and annoyed that she was so out of her element here, but mostly just good and fucked-out–which, Dee ultimately decided, was never a bad feeling.

“I’ve got it covered,” Faith laughed out, sandwiching one of Dee’s naked thighs between both of hers and _clenching_. “But you can help,” she continued, forcing Dee’s hands onto her tits. On autopilot, Dee started stroking Faith’s nipples through thin layers of black lace and black cotton, watching intently as Faith _shimmied_ on her until a series of curses was streaming out of Faith’s mouth–her whisky-rough voice cracking into a shriek. 

*****

Sam was still typing and clicking away industriously when Dee slumped back down next to her. She didn’t look up at first, just snarked about whether Dee’d fallen in or something and started talking in nerd mode about some website she’d just found.

“Just...gimme a minute here, Sammy,” Dee shushed.

When Sam finally did look over at Dee, she burst into snickering giggles almost immediately. 

“What?” 

“You’ve got lipstick on your neck.”

“Yeah, I missed,” Dee grunted, and thwapped Sam upside the head.

“You got _hustled_ more like.”

*****

It was probably the truth, but this time Dee didn’t care.


End file.
